


Any Means Necessary

by IPutTheSassInAssassin



Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Blizzards & Snowstorms, Broken Bones, Comic Spoilers, Flashbacks, Gore, Graphic Violence, M/M, Nightmares, Violence, tons of death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-14 00:36:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10525236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IPutTheSassInAssassin/pseuds/IPutTheSassInAssassin
Summary: Separated from their people, Rick and Negan must now work together to survive.





	1. Savior

   Collection day had arrived once again. The time in between those dreaded days seemed so much shorter each week, the amount of supplies available steadily dwindling as the fear and stress rose higher and higher. Rick woke that morning with an unshakable bout of anxiety in his gut, a feeling which only worsened when the Saviors arrived much earlier than usual, pulling up at the front gate just an hour or so after sunrise.

   Negan grinned from the other side of the gate as Rick approached, “Well hello there, Sunshine.” His mere presence sent Rick's insides into a knot, fists balling at his sides.  
  
   For a moment they just stared at each other through the bars, each trying to intimidate the other with their glare. Negan was unfazed, eyes boring into Rick's with an unspoken warning, a dare for him to just try something and see how far he could get before someone died. This silent war for dominance lasted only a moment, as Rick forced himself to break eye contact and begrudgingly slide the gate open. Negan's grin grew slightly wider.  
  
   The Saviors followed Negan inside, watching from afar as he inspected the pile of crates sitting on the road waiting for collection. Satisfied, he shot Rick a smile, the seal of approval that assured him they'd done good enough. Negan was pleased, and for that, nobody would have to die that day.

    That was, as long as nobody tried anything brash. So far everything was proceeding as per usual, but Rick still couldn't shake the unexplainable feeling that something just wasn't quite right. Something was off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it might be. More often than not, Rick's gut feelings proved to be correct.  
  
   Negan pulled Rick off to the side, letting the Saviors haul the crates full of food and bullets into the back of their trucks. That's what Negan liked about Rick and Alexandria; they always pulled through for him for no matter what he asked for or how much of it he demanded. Despite their hiccups in the beginning of their deal, Alexandria had finally gotten the damn message; Negan was in charge. It was just unfortunate so many of them had had to die before they'd accepted that unavoidable truth. Abraham, Glenn, Spencer, Olivia...  
  
   Rick avoided the man's gaze as much as he could, praying the Saviors would be finished soon and take their leave. The anxious feeling he'd woken up with had grown and embedded itself in his stomach like a rock, refusing to leave. Everything had gone off without a hitch so far, but there was still time yet for the other shoe to drop. It always did eventually.  
  
   “I'm glad we finally came to an understanding, Rick. Now that everybody's on board, nobody else has to die. You give me what I want, I don't beat anybody's brains to stew. We both benefit from this.”

   Rick ignored the comment, neither wanting to agree nor disagree. Talking to Negan was always treading a thin line. A line that meant the life or death of everyone Rick knew. So, he opted to say as little as possible.  
  
   The walkie-talkie clipped onto Negan's belt suddenly sprang to life, a terrible screech of static that cut off only moments after it began. Rick's anxiety peaked, like an invisible hand pressing on his chest, squeezing his throat as he eyed the walkie-talkie.

   Negan grabbed the walkie-talkie, “Come again?”  
  
   The static started again, interrupted by a panicked voice that bit out, “They're inside!”

   “ _Who's_ inside?” Negan demanded.  
  
   The only response was a series of growls and piercing screams that burst from the device. Whoever had been talking suddenly shrieked and then the transmission cut out completely. The Saviors paused in their collection efforts, turning to Negan to see what was happening.

   Negan glared at the walkie-talkie in his hand, “What the _fuck_? Simon, what's going on over there?”

   No answer.

   He tried again, “Joey? Ben? _Somebody_ tell me what the fuck's going on!”

   As if on cue, that's the moment everything went to shit.  
  
   “Get down!” Dwight suddenly shouted, just as burning molotovs and grenades came flying over the wall into Alexandria, landing on cars and the roofs of houses.  
  
   Thick smoke filled the air as bullets rained from every direction. Everyone ducked behind the trucks, but it proved futile. Rick watched helplessly as many men, both Alexandrians and Saviors alike, collapsed, clutching bleeding stomachs and chests as bullets ripped them apart. He peeked around his cover, trying to catch a glimpse of who was attacking them, but the smoke made it impossible to see anything.

   Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, more huge trucks and SUVs came crashing through the walls, knocking them down completely. Men armed with machine guns hopped out and opened fire on anyone in their line of sight.

   On the horizon just beyond them, a herd of walkers was gathering, a sea of them pouring towards the town like an endless tsunami of walkers.  
  
_Shit! This is it. It's all over. We gotta get out of here._

   Rick scrambled towards his house with his pistol in one hand and his hatchet in the other. Bullets kicked up dust just inches away from his feet as he ran. He turned and shot back, managing to hit one guy in the chest. As the man collapsed, Rick ran for his house, barging in through the front door and slamming it shut behind him.

   “Carl?” He shouted as he ran upstairs, “Carl!” The boy was nowhere to be found. His backpack was gone, as well as all of Judith's bottles, food, diapers. Even a couple of her toys were missing. _He must've taken her and ran. Good boy._

   When Rick returned outside, he was met with utter devastation. The town that had been their paradise had been brought to ruin once again. He watched as walkers overtook a poor woman in the street, her screams tearing through the air as her intestines were yanked out of her and devoured. Rick inwardly cursed himself for not being able to help. Jessie and Sam's faces suddenly flashed before his eyes, the scene all too similar.  
  
   Knuckles turned white as his grip on the hatchet tightened. He wanted to search the town for his people, make sure they were all alright, but there wasn't any time. Not if he wanted to survive. More and more walkers were pouring in by the second, the men with the machine guns patrolling the area and shooting any living person they saw, Saviors and Alexandrians both. Rick crouched behind fences and walls to avoid them.

   As soon as Rick found an opening, he ran for it, narrowly avoiding the walkers growling and biting at him. One grabbed his arm and he promptly drove the hatchet into its head. Rick hopped the fallen fence and ran as quickly as he could, the walkers right on his heels the entire way. Too many to fight.

   He still couldn't believe what had happened. One moment, everything had been fine, and the next, the walls were down and they were suddenly surrounded by hundreds of walkers. Who'd done this? Who had the knowledge, supplies and manpower to pull off this kind of assault?

   Another walker grabbed onto him, scratching his arm bloody. He sliced off its head with one fell swoop of the hatchet. _I need to find somewhere to hide!_  
  
   That's when he spotted one of the houses just beyond the outskirts of Alexandria. Few walkers separated him from the door. It was his only option, and so he went for it.

   He killed three... four walkers along the way, and then grabbed the handle of the front door and tugged. It wouldn't open. He pulled and yanked as hard as he could. When that didn't work, he even tried kicking in the door. It still wouldn't budge an inch. _Fuck!_  
  
   He spun around and was surrounded by the swarming walkers, hundreds of them, rotting arms outstretched as they reached for him, inching forward. There was no way out.

   Rick put the pistol against his temple. _Carl, Judith... I'm sorry_.  
  
   The door behind him creaked as it was flung open, someone grabbing his shoulder and yanking him backward into darkness. His head hit cold, hard floorboards as the figure above him slammed the door shut and barricaded it with a desk and several chairs. Rick couldn't make out who the person was, all he could see was their black silhouette.

   Whoever it was stepped back, breathing heavy as he took a final glance over the barricade, making sure it would hold. Walkers clawed at the door, growling and moaning, but none were able to get through.

   Rick stayed there, laying on the floor as he let his racing heart slow back to normal. _I'm alive... I actually made it out of there... but who-_

   “Really, Rick? Suicide? I'm really fucking disappointed.”

_Oh God, please tell me it isn't who I think it is._

   Once his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness enough to see, Rick looked up toward his savior and felt his heart drop into his stomach. There stood none other than Negan, glaring down at him as though _he_ were to blame for the mess they were in. Rick let his head fall back to the floor with a thud.

_Fuck._

 


	2. Our Only Chance

_Of all the people it could've been... why did it have to be Him?_

   “How about a 'thank you', Rick? I just saved your ass from becoming fucking Christmas dinner!”

   Rick sighed, already feeling a migraine coming on as he climbed to his feet. He turned and bit out, “Thank you.”

   Negan smiled, “You're most certainly fucking welcome.”  
  
   The silent war for dominance resumed once more as Rick glared at Negan from across the room. Yet again, Negan only smiled in return. This time it was just the pair of them alone, two alpha males circling each other with no barrier in between, no one to bear witness to whatever may happen next. Rick's fingers twitched at his side, fueled with the urge to lunge forward, rip that smile off Negan's face and watch the blood pour out as he slit the man's throat.

   Negan tilted his head slightly, “Go ahead, Rick. _Try_ something. But you and I both know that never ends good for you. And if you fail and I'm still breathing, which I most certainly well fucking might be, well, now then _somebody_ 's gonna have to pay the price. I will make you cut off your sons limbs one by one and I will force you to watch me kill every last one of your people. That is... if they're even still alive.”

   Rick seethed, body trembling with all the anger and hatred that flared up even stronger.

   “Or... you can cooperate and we can both get out of here and everything can be fucking peaches and cream. Everybody gets to live, no harm done. What do you say, Rick?”

   Rick's eyes flickered down to Negan's hand resting on the gun holstered at his side. _I won't win. It's not worth the risk. I won't put my son's life in even more jeopardy like that._ Rick tore his glare away from the man before him. _Goddammit. He always wins._ Negan smiled, taking the motion as a surrender. _Atta boy._

   Rick took a look around at the place they were now holed up in. It was a small living room in a two-story house, a house he'd seen from the outside a dozen times while leaving for supply runs, but had never actually gone into until now.

   He had hoped there would be others from the group there with them, but of course there wasn't. It really was just him and Negan, completely alone. _Great_. Rick made his way to the kitchen and stood there a moment with his hands on the counter as he closed his eyes and tried to calm the burning rage Negan so easily pulled out of him. _One day I'll have my chance to kill him, but not now. Right now I just need to worry about getting out of here alive and finding the others._ Rick stood with a sigh and started rummaging through all the cabinets and the storage closet, seeing what he could find. Nothing but dust and mold. _This day just gets better and better._

   He returned to the living room with empty hands. The walkers were still pressed up against the doors and windows, pounding against the wood and glass, growling hungrily. Negan watched them quietly, his arms crossed. When he saw Rick, he turned towards him, brows furrowing in annoyance, “Seriously, what is with that fucking look? You're acting like I pissed in your chicken noodle soup and still made you eat it.”

   Rick said nothing, turning his glare towards the window.  
  
   Negan sighed, “Look. We're both fucked down shit creek without so much as a dick for a paddle. No matter how much you hate it, your best goddamn chance of surviving right now is if we work _together_. So if you have any fucking ideas, let's hear them.”

   Rick's jaw clenched. _He's right. The only way we can make it out of this is working together. No matter how much I hate it, being miserable is not going to change the fact that we're stuck in here with each other._

   Pushing his hate momentarily aside, he tried to think of an escape plan, “We need to find the others and then start clearing these walkers.”

   Negan scoffed, “What... you intend on trying to _save_ that place?”

   “We've done it before, we can do it again.” Rick snapped, thinking back to the Wolves' attack. Things had seemed bleak then, with how many people had died, and how many walkers had swarmed the place, but they had bounced back. They always did.

   Negan's eyebrows raised, “Those men out there – they just destroyed all your houses, your gardens, and knocked down all your fucking walls. You guys just got completely fucking raped. Alexandria is _fucked_ , Rick.”

   Rick opened his mouth to argue, but Negan was right. Even if they could clear out all the walkers and kill the men who attacked them, what was left? Everything had been destroyed right in front of him. The houses, the walls. All those things they'd still had after dealing with the Wolves, but now were gone.

   They didn't have a choice this time. They had to start over, completely from scratch at somewhere new. _Can we really do that again? I guess we have to..._

   Rick watched the smoke rising from within Alexandria, turning the sky black, “We still need to move, before those men find us here. We're sitting ducks.”

   “Not until these dead guys clear out. Those pricks are smart, they'll raid Alexandria and leave before they're overwhelmed. They won't touch this place with how many of those dead fuckers are here.”  
  
   The logic in that was obvious, but Rick despised the thought of just sitting and waiting. His people - his _family -_ were out there somewhere, either dead already or fighting for their lives, and he could do nothing to help them just sitting inside the house. But yet again, Negan was right. They couldn't do anything to help or even get out of the house until the walker herd thinned enough for them to escape safely. They may be no good in there, but they were no good dead either.

   “Let's get away from the windows and be quiet. We can take shifts resting and watching out.” Rick suggested.

   Negan nodded, “I'll take first watch. You really look like you could use some beauty rest.” Rick eyed him, suspicious. Negan sighed, “Stop giving me that stupid ass look. If I was gonna kill you in your sleep, I wouldn't have bothered saving you from the fucking herd.”

   True. _But why_ did _he save me?_ Rick wanted to ask, to demand an answer. To know what Negan's true intention was and what he was planning. Rick couldn't see the man saving him simply out of the generosity of his heart. Hell, he wasn't sure Negan even _had_ a heart. Either way, he knew Negan probably wouldn't give him the truth anyways.

   Rick made a quick visit to the bedroom, grabbing a blanket and pillow off the bed. When he returned to the living room, he laid them down against the far wall, away from all the windows, and stretched out on them. He was exhausted, his arms and legs sore from all the fighting and running. The blanket provided very little comfort against the floor, but he knew he needed to stay in the same room as Negan, just in case things went south and they had to make a quick getaway.

   Rick laid there and stared up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the growling and snarls of the walkers outside. Instead, he let his thoughts wander back to happier times. He thought about his wedding day with Lori, how happy and _young_ they had been. Lori had looked so breathtaking in her wedding dress.  
  
   Then Carl was born, only a year after their marriage. _That was the happiest day of my life_. Next thing Rick knew he was picking up Carl from his first day of kindergarten. _What grade would he be in now? How old is he exactly?_ Then Rick remembered the day he found Carl after he'd woken from his coma; the bright smile that lit up the boy's face when he saw him and ran over into his arms. Back when Carl was still so young and innocent, untainted by all the death and evil that now plagued the world.

   Rick's chest tightened as his eyes began to sting. In the end, remembering the happy times only made the current situation feel so much worse.

_Carl... please be okay._

* * *

   Screaming and growling filled Rick's dreams when he finally did find sleep. He was drug back through time into Alexandria during the attack. Once again, he was running to his house to find Carl and Judith, rotting mouths and faces snapping and snarling all around him.

   He slammed open the door and sprinted upstairs. There was Carl standing in the doorway, turned away from him with his head down. Judith was nowhere to be seen.

   “Carl, we have to go. Where's Judith?”

   Carl didn't answer. The silence pressed in on Rick, his heart skipping a beat as he considered the implications of the boy's hesitance.

   Rick asked again, much more softly, “Carl? Where is she?”

   When Carl turned around, half his face was rotted, eye glazed over. He let out a deafening growl as he lunged forward, grabbing Rick and sinking his teeth into Rick's neck. _It's okay. I deserve this. I deserve this for not protecting you._ Pain shot through him as warm blood poured out of the wound, soaking Rick's shirt, a waterfall of red that he just couldn't stop.

  Carl tore into his neck even deeper, pulling off strips of flesh with his teeth, lifeless eye watching as his father collapsed, choking on his own blood.  


   Rick jolted awake, body covered in a layer of sweat. The sound of tearing flesh and a baby's cry still rang sharply in his ears as hands rushed to his neck to cover a wound that wasn't there. It took a moment or two for him to realize he wasn't really dying. _Only a dream..._ Rick sighed and rubbed his eyes. Slowly, his senses returned and the insanity faded into silence.

  The room around him was dark, but the walkers were no longer piled up at the windows and door, trying to break in. He leaned over slightly to peer out the window, and saw them all still out there roaming around. Still way too many to fight.

   Then his eyes fell on Negan. _Shit, I really am stuck here with him. Why couldn't that have been part of the dream?_ Negan sat with his back against the wall as he stared out the window, Lucille on the floor beside him. He hadn't noticed Rick's movement at all.

   Rick sat there and watched him for a minute. He used to be so good at reading people; what they were thinking, how they were feeling; that's what had made him such a good cop. But now, he couldn't read into Negan at all. Was he angry? Was he upset? Did he feel _anything_ over what had happened to them? The man just sat and calmly watched the scene unfold outside, as though being trapped in a house surrounded by the undead was a completely normal occurrence. Hell, maybe for him it was.  
  
   Rick broke the silence, “Hey. Why didn't you wake me up to switch watch?”

   “You seemed like you could use the extra rest.”

   No sarcastic response? Rick was surprised, “Well... you go ahead and sleep. I'll take over.”  
  
   “No, I'm fine. I could never fucking sleep out here anyways.”

   Rick didn't know what to say. Hell, he still didn't even know what to think of the whole situation. He was stuck in this tiny house with his absolute worst enemy, while he didn't even know where the hell his kids were, or if they were even alive. What kind of leader, what kind of _father_ was he?  
  
   Rick shook his head, glaring at the floor. _I have to get out of here. I have to find them. I can't fail my family yet again..._  
  
   He didn't notice when Negan turned to him, watching him. After some deliberation, Negan went ahead and asked, “You worried?”

   Rick sighed, “My kids...” He glanced up at Negan, hopeful, “You didn't happen to see them on your way here, did you?”  
  
   “No.” Negan watched as the spark of hope faded from Rick's eyes, snuffed out just as quickly as it'd come. Negan almost felt bad for causing his disappointment. Rick's gaze dropped back down to the floor. Negan continued, “But your boy... he's a tough little bad ass. He can take damn good care of himself. I'm sure he's more than fine.”

   Negan remembered Carl quite fondly. He remembered how he'd hid in the back of his truck only to come out with guns blazing. Most kids would be wasting their time playing at home, not paying attention to anything that was happening around them, but Carl didn't. Carl wasn't living in a fantasy, he knew how the world worked and had went out on a suicide mission, killing a bunch of men and risking his own life just to exact a vengeance. The kid's fearlessness and determination had seriously impressed him.

   Then there was the baby, Negan vaguely remembered Carl calling her _Judith_ in passing, and she had been simply adorable. He hadn't seen a baby since the world had gone to shit, so she had been quite the surprise. Rick had some serious guts having and raising a baby with the way the world was.

   The temperature gradually dropped as the night progressed. _Of course this all had to happen in the beginning of winter._ Rick grabbed the blanket from the floor and wrapped it tightly around himself to battle the chill creeping into his body. _I really hope Carl and Judith are somewhere nice and warm._  
  
   “Look-” Negan nodded towards the window, “They're clearing out.”

   Rick crawled up beside Negan, both staring out the window. The herd had indeed thinned out, exponentially so. Their growls were faded, the walkers slowed by the cold and darkness.

   Rick adjusted himself, glancing around the outside surroundings as best he could. He was looking for a clear path, a way to escape their current predicament. Then he found it.

   “You see those trees? There's only... three... five walkers between us and there. If we get there, it's a straight shot into the woods. We'll be covered by the dark and the trees. Nobody will see us. You take out the ones to the right, I'll get the ones on the left.”  
  
   Negan nodded, “Okay.”  
  
   “You go first, I'll be right behind you.” Negan may have saved his life once, but Rick still didn't trust the man in the least bit. There was no way he was giving Negan a plain opportunity to kill him from behind.  
  
   Negan gave him a look, “Fucking pussy.”

   He grabbed Lucille from the floor while Rick got out the hatchet. They stood side by side, Negan leaning against the door as they prepared to burst though.

   “Can you believe this, Rick? We're working _together_!” Negan said with a grin.

   Rick scowled, “Stay focused on the mission. We go out together in 3... 2....”

   The door slammed open as they shoved through. All nearby walkers automatically turned to them.

   Rick plunged his hatchet into the head of the nearest one, “Run for the trees!”  
  
   Negan bashed in the head of one walker, then another, “You sure you can keep up, Rick? This is actually fucking _fun_.”

   More and more walkers were coming towards them, closing in much faster than they'd anticipated. They fought and pushed through, running for the trees, but kept getting blocked off by more walkers. Blood and guts flew through the air, painting the grass and both men fighting in coats of sticky black and crimson.

   When Rick finally broke through the horde, he shot for the treeline. Under the cover of the trees, he finally stopped for a breath. _We made it!_ _Wait... where the fuck is Negan?_ The man wasn't at his side. He whipped back around.

   Negan was still out there, completely surrounded by the Walkers in all directions. He killed one, shoved away another, kicked yet another. He was completely overwhelmed; there was no way he was getting out of it by himself.  
  
   Rick hesitated. _I should just leave him here. I should run and never look back. This is my opportunity to let him die, to make him pay for what he did_.  
  
   A walker latched onto Negan's back. The man's eyes grew wide as he struggled; he wasn't fast enough, he couldn't reach. The walker opened it's mouth to bite down-

_God dammit!_

   The walker's head exploded in a cloud of blood that sprayed all over Negan. His eyes snapped to Rick's through the chaos of arms and heads, both men equally full of shock and surprise. Rick broke the eye contact as he began shooting the rest of the walkers around Negan, “Run, you idiot!”

   Negan sprinted towards him. As he caught up to Rick, they turned together and ran further into the woods, the walker herd not far behind.

   They ran and ran until their legs burned, and then forced themselves to ignore the pain and run even more. Only when they could no longer see or hear the walkers behind them did they dare slow down and stop to take a breather.

   “Rick... you saved me.” Negan said, panting, hands on his knees.

 _I really did save him... why? Why the hell did I save this monster?_ Rick refused to even look at the man. Refused to even acknowledge that he'd just saved the man who murdered his friends and threatened his family.

   Negan stood up and smiled at Rick, still breathing hard, “Are we actually becoming... _friends_?”  
  
   Rick shuddered, hating himself for not taking the opportunity to just let the man die. _No... he deserves a punishment worse than death for what he did to Abraham and Glenn. If he should die, I'll be the one to personally see to it, not the walkers. He's not getting off that easy._

   “Your bar for friendship is too low. Just consider us even. Come on, we need to keep going so the walkers don't catch up to us. We'll find a safer place to hole up until daylight and then search for supplies.”

 


	3. Revolt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comic conversation spoilers abound

    “You wanna do _what_? Didn't we go over this already? Alexandria is gone. I know you're king shit, high and mighty Rick Grimes, savior of the new world, but you can't fucking save _every_ thing!” Negan yelled two days later as they sat around a small table arguing about what to do next.

   Rick snapped, “I _know_ that! But we have to go back anyways. I have to see if anybody else went back, or if we can find out who's responsible. If you don't like it, then just go. Nothing is forcing you to be help me. But _I'm_ going back.”

   Negan scowled, “Fine.” The chair scrapped loudly against the floor as he stood abruptly, grabbing Lucille and slinging their small bag of supplies over his shoulder.

   “What are you doing?” Rick spat, jumping up and stepping in Negan's way. If they were really splitting up, he would be getting at least half of the supplies they had, even if it was minimal.

   “ _We_ are going to Alexandria. Unless there's something you need to do beforehand? Primp up your hair? Do your morning jack-off?”

   Half of Rick was irritated that Negan hadn't actually been leaving like he'd thought. The other half of him was surprisingly relieved. _Surviving will be easier with a second person._  
  
   Rick scowled, “No, we can go now. The herd should be gone. If not, we'll turn back, but we need to see if we can find anything.”  
  
   “Ok.” Negan nodded, “They're not getting away with this, are they?” he asked, referring to the people who'd attacked them. He knew from experience that Rick could hold a grudge for a _very_ long ass time. Anybody that bothered the man was just begging for trouble and their recent attackers were no exception. Negan wanted to be right there beside him to witness that hatchet of justice come crashing down. Rick may have lost Alexandria, but Negan had lost the Sanctuary and several more outposts. Hundreds of good men and even all his wives.

   “Not a chance in hell.” Rick growled, remembering all the screams, the flames and smoke rising into the sky. The home and paradise they'd just lost and could never, ever replace.

   “Oh, damn.” Negan grinned, “That attitude is a _much_ different fucking experience when I'm not on the receiving end of it.”

   “Believe me, you're still on the list.” Rick muttered as he pushed open the front door.

   “What? The not-today-not-tomorrow-but-I'm-gonna-kill-you list? Thought saving your ass would've gotten me some extra fucking brownie points, but whatever.” Negan retorted, following Rick outside.

   “You earned a couple extra days to live.”

   Negan shrugged, “I'll take what I can get.”

* * *

  
   The once thriving safe haven that was Alexandria was now just a sad, desolated destruction zone. Half the walls were flattened, many of the houses completely burnt down. All the trucks and working vehicles were long gone, along with all the food and medicine. The yards and roads were now all lined with the dead.  
  
   Rick and Negan walked through the neighborhood cautiously, quietly taking out the few walkers still lurking around. Rick studied each face carefully, breathing a sigh of relief each time it turned out to be someone he didn't know. Most importantly, Carl was not among them and neither was Judith. They had survived.  
  
   Walkers finished off, the whole place became unnaturally quiet. Rick was so used to children running around laughing and the occasional gunfire from where the Alexandrians  
were training. That was all long gone now, replaced with the somber emptiness that befalls every place left abandoned to rot.  
  
   “Davis!” Negan shouted, voice piercing through that unbearable silence like a knife as he ran over and crouched beside a man slumped over on the sidewalk.

   Rick stayed a few feet away, giving them their space but still listening in. He recognized the man, Davis, as someone he'd seen with the Saviors during the weekly collections, but they'd never interacted directly. Now, the man was lying there, soaked in blood from a bite in his shoulder. He was still breathing, but just barely. His skin was deathly pale, hair and clothing plastered to his skin from sweat. There wasn't much time left.

   His eyes fluttered open weakly, “Ne...Negan.”

   “What the fuck happened? Do you know?”  
  
   “It was... was Mark.”

   “Mark? What did that cock-sucking motherfucker do now?”Negan growled in disdain. Mark had always been a troublemaker. _I should've killed that ungrateful bastard long ago._

   “Lead a... revolt... group of Saviors... destroyed everything... loo... looking for you.” Davis groaned in pain, “Wanted to overthrow you.”

_Looking for you. Wanted to overthrow you._ Negan sighed, averting his gaze from the man before him, “Fuck.”

   “Negan...” The man's voice was growing weaker.

   “What is it, Davis?” Negan asked softly.

   “Finish... me.”

   Negan wanted to argue, to give Davis some reassurance that he would be okay, but he knew that would be nothing but a lie. They had no medical supplies and Davis was already succumbing the fever. Negan's expression hardened as he stood, pulling out his pistol.  
  
   From afar, Rick frowned, eyeing the dying man on the ground. Davis may have been one of the Saviors, one of the bad guys, but it didn't make the scene any easier to watch. After all, he was still just a human, just trying to survive like everyone else. Negan aimed the gun at Davis's forehead.

   “I'm sorry, Davis. You're a good man.”

_BAM!_

   Then it was done. Negan turned and walked right past Rick without another word.

   “Negan? What-”

   “There's nothing fucking here, Rick. Let's go before the undead fucks come investigating that fucking gunshot.”

   Rick couldn't argue. There really was nothing there. Nobody but Davis, and he was... well, he wasn't there anymore. At the very least, they now had a name; a lead as to what to do and who was responsible for all the unnecessary death and destruction. Rick spared one last pitying glance towards Davis, slumped over motionless on the sidewalk. With a sigh, he turned and ran to catch up to Negan.

* * *

  
   Rick watched as Negan glared at his completely untouched can of soup. He'd been unusually quiet ever since their run-in with Davis that afternoon, even during the whole walk to this new house they were staying in for the night. It was almost unnerving. As obnoxious as his constant babble could be, it at least provided some valuable insight as to what Negan was thinking at any given time.

   “You should eat.” Rick eventually said, knowing he needed to get the man to talk if he were to ever figure out what was going on in his head.

   Negan ignored his comment, “Davis was a damn good man. A lot of them were. They shouldn't have had to die.”

   “You're right, they shouldn't have. _Nobody_ should've.” Rick shot him an accusatory glare from across the table. That's what this was about? Why was he expressing concern over peoples' deaths _now_? Why the change of heart all of a sudden, after he had already needlessly killed so many?

   Negan sighed, “I really thought we were getting somewhere, Rick, finally becoming friends. But now there's that goddamn look again.”

   “We're never going to be friends. That ship sailed a long time ago.”

   “Why?”  
  
   “You know why.” Rick growled.  
  
   Negan's voice rose in anger, “Cause I killed your friends, right? If I hadn't killed them, would you still hate me? Let me tell you something, Rick. I never wanted to do that to them. _You made_ me do it.”

_Even if Negan hadn't murdered anybody, he's still an arrogant prick who does nothing but bully and steal_ , “Yeah... yeah, I'd still hate you.”

   “Why? Why are you so goddamn fucking determined to hate me? I go out of my way to prove to you how honest and reasonable I am and yet you still see me as nothing but a fucking monster.”

   “Me and my people, we were fighting for a peaceful way of life – after surviving a whole lot of not peaceful times. Then you came and fucked everything up. Why? What the hell were you doing? Instead of rebuilding, we had to waste our time serving a fucking psycho who threatened to kill us if we didn't give him half our shit.”

   “What's your point?” Negan spat, eyes narrowing.

   “What I'm getting at, Negan... is we've lived through a lot of shit and we've figured out how to live in the new world... and you screwed all that up. The dead are a problem... but we've wrapped our heads around that problem. They'll always be a danger but we're capable of dealing with that long term. But then you came along, and we had to worry about you instead.”  
  
   “Frankly, I was just trying to restore order... get things back to where they were. I know what it takes for people to survive... and it's someone like _me_. Someone to keep everyone in line, to keep everyone preoccupied so they're not focused on how goddamn miserable they are. I was saving lives.”

   Rick shouted, “You're just stupid enough to believe that, aren't you? Can I remind you of something you seem to have forgotten? We have the whole goddamn world to share. There's just not that many people left. There's no reason we should've been fighting or threatening each other or stealing from each other. There's no reason for all the death and destruction that happened – because of _you_. Do you not realize what we had? What we built? The potential we had was almost limitless. Between us, we had a lot of people who were capable of doing amazing things. Now that's all gone, and all your people died! You didn't save them, you killed them!”

    Negan's jaw clenched, as he remembered all the smoke, the fire... all the death. The wasted life. The wasted time. The wasted potential. Davis's words echoed in his head. _They were looking for you._  
  
   Here I was trying to save them and I ended up getting them all killed instead.

   Rick continued, fueled with all his pent up rage and frustration, “If we had just put aside these petty differences, if you weren't so goddamn selfish – we could've established a system of trade. We could've built safer places to live. We could've fixed roads, set up farms. We could've accomplished so much. We could've fixed it all, Negan. Everything. We may never be able to get things back to the way they were-- but we could've gotten damn close. People could've lived their lives, children could've grown up in a safe environment We could've been happy... all of us. We could've rebuilt civilization... maybe even done a better job of it.”  
_  
Fuck. I've... had it all wrong. I've been acting like a starving dog, hoarding supplies, pushing others away... for safety, for my people. But goddamn it, Rick is right._

   Rick shook his head, letting out a sigh, “We could've done so much more together... united.... so much that could've be changed. But now we have to start from scratch all over again... because of _you_.”

   Before Negan could even come up with a response, Rick abruptly stood and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Negan just sat there alone in the silence, mulling over everything Rick had said.

_I really fucked up._

 


	4. Two Sides, One Coin

   Rick woke to the warmth of sunlight on his face. He sighed and stretched, all his joints still incredibly sore from the constant walking and fighting. _I should go check on Judith. She's probably hungry._ He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat upright, freezing when he looked around the room. _Oh..._

   Rick sat there on the edge of the bed for a minute, letting the memory of all that had happened that week return to him. Since the attack on Alexandria, Rick and Negan had been on the run, going from house to house, neighborhood to neighborhood, scrounging for supplies, searching for any sign of life. They found just enough food to scrape by, but so far had found nobody from either of their groups.

   Negan had kept the walkie-talkie at his side for the first couple days, but could never reach anyone through it. Obviously, Alexandria was not the only community demolished by Mark and his followers. The Sanctuary and outposts had been lost too, but Negan had still kept the walkie-talkie just in case. Eventually he gave up that hope, leaving the useless thing behind in one of the abandoned houses.

   Negan scowled, glaring out the window. There were no walkers outside yet, so they had some time still before they'd have to move. He couldn't stop thinking about all they'd lost between the Sanctuary and Alexandria. All the work and supplies just gone to waste. All the people needlessly lost...

 _How many survived? Did any of my wives? Did Dwight? Simon? And to think... all the people they killed... it was all because of me..._  
  
   Footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. He took a deep breathe before turning around just as Rick stumbled into the living room, his hair completely disheveled from sleep. Negan almost laughed... he had never seen the man so unkempt. The sprouting facial hair and matted clothing severely took away from the whole leadership vibe and gave him more of the savage, wild look. Negan found he quite preferred it actually; It made Rick look stronger. More like the man Negan knew Rick was inside even though he fought so hard to hide it.  
  
   “I found a couple bags of chips and a bottle of water from the house across the street.” He tossed a bag over to Rick, “They're fucking stale as week-old dog shit, but they're better than nothing.”  
  
   “Thanks.” Rick grumbled, tearing open the bag.

   “Where are we heading today?”  
  
   “We keep searching this neighborhood.”

   Negan sighed, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, “Rick... we need to head further out. We've been circling Alexandria all week, and we haven't fucking found a damn thing.”  
  
   Rick snapped, “I have to find my family. They're out here, somewhere, and I need to find them. I know _you_ wouldn't know what that's like – having a family you love and care for no matter what.”

   Negan's expression hardened, “You know exactly fucking _nothing_ about me. I went out of my way to save your ass when I didn't have to. In fact, I'm still fucking here, helping you out, despite knowing I wouldn't get a fucking fraction of that in return. I expect nothing of you, and yet I'm still fucking here, helping search for your fucking 'family'. Think about that the next time you start spewing bullshit, Prick.”  
  
   Rick said nothing, knowing damn well he'd crossed a line. He almost felt bad about it. _Almost_. It was true, he knew nothing at all about Negan. He didn't know whether the man had a family or not. He didn't know who or how many Negan had lost. Rick scowled, frustrated with himself. The man had brutally murdered some of his best friends, why should he care whether he hurt the man's feelings? Why should he care about whoever Negan lost? Rick quietly finished off his chips and tossed the empty bag away.

   Negan wordlessly handed him the bottle of water, watching as Rick grabbed it and took a sip. Rick pointedly avoided making any sort of eye contact.

   “We should go, I can see a group of walkers coming up the street. You lead the fucking way.” Negan muttered.  
  
   “Yeah.” Rick turned, screwing the cap on the water closed before heading for the door.

   Not moving from his spot, Negan sighed, “Rick...”

   He paused in the doorway.

   Negan took a moment to gather his thoughts before he continued, “You're going to find them. If there's one thing I know about your people – they're _tough_. They're not like most people.”  
  
   Rick thought about all the people he'd met and gotten to know over the last couple of years since the world ended. The people that had come and gone. The people who had simply given up. The people who had been too weak to fight. The people who were strong, and yet still had ended up dying.

   Then there was his family, the group of people, unbelievably _strong_ people, who had come together and fought and supported each other through the absolute worst possible circumstances. The people who made the terrible life he had so much brighter. The ones who made life actually worth fighting to survive for.

   Rick nodded, “Yeah. You're right.”

* * *

  
   “You do realize, this turn is heading _away_ from Alexandria right? Is the cold weather fucking up your brain or something?” Negan said as they turned down the long, abandoned highway. Several feet separated the pair, a space that was carefully maintained by Rick at all times.

   The temperature had continued to drop as the days passed by. Now they could see their breath every time they spoke. Rick pulled his jacket tighter around him. He just hoped everyone he knew was some place nice and warm. All he had to do was find them, and then everything would be fine. They could find a new place to live, and everything could finally return to normal.

  “I know.” Rick said, voice rough, “You were right, earlier. If they were still around here, we would've found them, or they would've found us.”  
Rick could just hear the smirk in Negan's voice, “Holy fucking shit! You're admitting I was right? God damn, Rick! Thanks for stroking my fucking dick!”

   Rick was so used to Negan's vulgarity by then that he didn't even wince at the comment. He actually would've been more surprised if Negan _hadn't_ made some dirty comment about it.  
  
   His whole morning and afternoon had been spent walking and thinking about what Negan had said about his people. The kindness and comfort the man had offered, even in such few words. _Why did he bother? Why does he care how I feel? Why does he care if I'm worried?_

   “What did you mean when you said, 'they aren't like most people'?”  
  
   Negan's brows rose in surprise, and then furrowed in thought, “Your people are strong. Most aren't.”  
  
   “You _have_ to be strong to be able to survive in this world anymore.”

   “That's true. It's too fucking true. That's why the weak flock to people like _you_ and _me_ to make decisions and protect them, to give them some direction. They need us.”

   Rick wasn't sure if he agreed or not. He could see the logic, and there were plenty of examples throughout his own journey that would plead Negan's case, but he didn't voice them out loud. Since the very beginning, people had found him and clung to him, relying on him to keep them safe. People who couldn't handle making tough decisions for the group, or even for their own survival. But did that really make them weak?

   Negan closed the distance between them, coming up to Rick's side. Rick glared at him like he'd crossed some invisible boundary. Negan ignored the dirty look, “But your people, they seem like they have their heads on their shoulders... well, _most_ of them. I'm not so sure about that freaky ass priest though.”  
  
   “They do. _All_ of them. Come on, it's getting cold and dark fast. We can hold up in this house right here for the night.” Rick nodded towards a house to their left.

   “Okay. Good as any. I'll help you clear it.”

* * *

  
   After what felt like an hour or so of trying to fall asleep that night, Rick finally gave up. His mind was too busy racing, reliving the memories of all the people he'd lost. Shane. Dale. Sophia. Hershel. Rick put on a shirt and then made his way to the living room. He couldn't let himself get caught up in reminiscing; it would only lead to insanity.

   Negan was still up on watch duty. He was sitting at the dining table, carelessly flipping through an old, torn up magazine by tea-light.  
  
   “Can't sleep?” Negan asked, glancing up at Rick.

   “No.” He pulled out the chair across from Negan and took a seat, “I can't stop thinking about the past. The people I've lost. People I couldn't protect...”  
  
   Negan pushed aside the magazine, giving Rick his full attention, “Whats the single worst thing you've ever done?”  
  
   Rick didn't answer, opting instead to give him an odd, suspicious glare.  
  
   Negan sighed, “Look, Rick. Whether you like it or not, we're stuck with each other now. We're _alike_ , you and me. We really should get along so much better. Now.... worst thing you've ever done. Go.”

   Rick thought for a minute, eyeing the wood of the table, too ashamed to meet Negan's eyes. Whether it was shame for the actions he'd committed or shame over knowing Negan had a point, he wasn't sure.

   He didn't want to answer, he really didn't. He didn't want to give Negan the satisfaction of being right again, but at the same time... why not use the opportunity to get all that shit off his chest? To lessen that burden of guilt even just a tiny bit? Of all the people still alive, Negan would be the one to understand the most. He would be the one to understand the reasons, the one that didn't judge or think any less of Rick for what he'd done, especially not when he himself had done so much worse.

   “It all kind of runs together at this point... hard to narrow it down. It's one solid block of bad all boiling down to one thing. The worst thing I ever did... is live. When so many others... who should have... didn't”.  
   
   Negan flinched like he'd been struck in the chest. He completely understood what Rick was getting at, the crippling weight of survivor's guilt.

   “Well that's... that's... I hear that. So many fucking people... fucking weak, fucking weak-ass fucking people. Crying. Scared. Doing every-fucking-thing in their power to get themselves killed. Spineless fucks cowering in fear until they were ripped to shreds. I was surrounded by them. Watched them all die... so many I lost fucking count. After a while... I just starting seeing everyone like that. Hell, most everyone _is_ like that. I just lost all respect for the human race. Makes it really easy to bash a man's brains in when you think it might save all his friends... especially when you think the only way his friends can be tricked into living is when they're made into slaves. You stop seeing people as humans after a while...”

   Rick glared at him, unable to shove away the memories that flashed before his eyes. The sickening sound as Negan beat Abraham and Glenn to death. The sadistic grin and the cruel, sick jokes made at their expense. It made his veins boil, fists balling up on the table.  
  
   “I'm not making fucking excuses. I _know_ what I did was fucking fucked up one side and fucked right back down the other. But now I'm starting to see how wrong I was about all of it. I saw how strong you and your people are. _You_ showed me another way. You love each other like a family, help each other out. You were right, I fucked _everything_ up... it's because of _me_ Alexandria and the Sanctuary were fucking destroyed... I feel fucking terrible about it... and now... I want to make it right. _That's_ why I saved your fucking life. _That's_ why I'm here with you now, doing everything I can to help you out.”

   Rick didn't know what to say. These were all things he'd never, ever expect Negan to say, and it took him completely off guard.

   Negan sighed, and his gaze fell to the table as he continued, in a soft, broken voice, “Worst thing _I_ ever did was leave my wife to rot. I couldn't do it, had someone else put her down. And Why? I had some kind of compulsion at the time -- the dead need to stay dead... like she was in agony or some shit... some kind of perversion of who she was... an abomination. Where did that come from? I had no – still have no fucking clue what it's like to be one of those undying fucks. But she was put down and I didn't even see it. I even stayed in the area for weeks... never went back to do the right thing. I just... I couldn't see her like that again. I couldn't put her in the ground – put her to rest. She's a pile of dry bones rotting on a fucking floor... my wife... because of _me_.”

   Silence followed, the air dense with the guilt and shame that hung over both men for all those they'd failed to save. A list of people that continued to grow with each passing day. Rick hated to admit he actually kind of felt sorry for the man sitting across from him. _He had a wife_... He wondered what she was like, if she was anything like Lori. What did she look like? What was her name? Then it hit him...  
  
   “Lucille.” Rick said matter-of-factly.  
  
   “What?”

   “Lucille. That was your wife's name wasn't it? That's why you...”  
  
   Negan nodded, glancing longingly over at the bat leaning against the far wall, still covered in walker blood and rotted flesh. Shame tightened his chest for naming such a stupid thing after her. For pouring the faith and love he'd once held for his wife into a fucking inanimate object, just to avoid dealing with the loss.  
  
   “I... I lost my wife too... her name was Lori. I was a cop, before all _this_. One day I got shot, went into a coma. Woke up in the hospital and everything had changed. Took me a while to find Carl and Lori... then a few months later I... I lost her. It wasn't walkers, it was Judith being born. And I wasn't even there to see it, to help her. I wasn't there to put her down. Carl had to do it...”

   “Fuck.” Negan shook his head, leaning back in his chair, “That is _fucked_ up. I'm... I'm sorry. Je-sus.”

   Rick pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes shut tight as his thoughts ran wild. The guilt over not being there for Lori burned him from the inside, fully revived through the conversation like a phoenix. _I should've jut put aside our petty arguments and taken advantage of the short time we had... now it's too late. Carl shouldn't have been the one to put her down... especially not while he was still so young. No kid that age should have to deal with death, much less witness it._

   Memories poured into his mind as though just talking about Lori had opened some kind of psychic floodgate. So many people had died because he'd made the wrong choices, and he could remember every one of their faces still so clearly every time he closed his eyes.

   Now, it'd happened all over again. First they'd lost the farm, then the prison, and now Alexandria. They'd been so sure they were safe. Now he didn't even know if anyone of them were still alive. Not even Carl or Judith. Instead, he was stuck with the monster who'd killed Abraham and Glenn... but now he could barely even think of Negan as a monster anymore, not after all this time. Not after what they'd shared. Not after Negan had actually broken down and shown remorse and empathy... human traits a monster would _never_ have. If they really were so alike, and Negan was supposedly a monster, well then what did that make Rick?

   He looked up at Negan from across the table. The man seemed... lost. His eyes focused on the wood of the table between them, glazed over in deep thought. The fake smile he usually wore was gone, providing Rick a rare glimpse into the real man underneath all the arrogance and violence he wore like a mask.

   Rick knew so much and yet so little about the man in front of him. He wanted to know more. He tried to think of lighter, easier questions, things that weren't too painful to reflect on.

   “What were you... before all this happened?”

   A tiny smirk finally appeared on Negan's face, “I was a fucking high school coach. Can you believe it?”

   He couldn't, actually. He couldn't imagine Negan teaching, or even being around kids daily with the way he acted, the way he talked. _What if he'd been Carl's teacher?_

   “Listen, I know I did some fucking terrible fucking shit. It happened. I can't change that. I thought what I was doing was for the best, to save people. I'm sure you've done things just as, if not _more_ horrible.”

   Rick averted his gaze again as even more memories flooded back. Memories of shooting the legs of the cannibals at terminus, watching them get eaten alive by the walkers. Ripping out the throat of the man who'd attacked Carl. Slaughtering Gareth and his people in the church. Killing all those people at the satellite station in their sleep.

   Maybe the actions themselves weren't so bad. After all, he'd done those things with good intentions; to protect his people, his kids. _Just like Negan._ The disturbing part was the lack of guilt he felt towards any of it. _Does that make me even worse than him?_

   “Yeah... I did.”

   Neither said anything after that, taking a few minutes to stew in all they'd just learned of each other. Rick hung his head in shame, unable to even look the man in the face. He'd just revealed some of his worst secrets, the things that haunted him and clung to him, tainting his integrity, constantly chipping away at his soul each and every time he closed his eyes. Things he could never ever take back or change... things he _wouldn't_ change even if he had the chance.  
  
   It was Negan who eventually broke the silence, “I saved you because I _like_ you. I respect you. You're _strong_. You're _just like me_. Look at us. Even with everything that happened, we're calm as fuck.”

   Rick mulled over this. He could no longer argue with it, he knew Negan was completely right. In fact, the whole conversation they'd just had only served to prove Negan's point.

   They'd both lost their wives. They'd both taken on the leadership role even when they hadn't wanted them. They'd both brutally murdered people to keep their groups safe. They'd both kept the people who depended on them alive by any means necessary, no matter how evil or vile those actions were. They were more alike than Rick had ever even considered, and their similarities pulled out of him a strong feeling of sympathy and kinship for the man before him. Looking at Negan was like looking into a mirror. Two sides of one coin, but Rick wasn't even sure if he was the good side or the bad side anymore.  
  
   “Can I ask you something, Rick?” Negan said, in a voice barely above a whisper, “Do you still want to kill me? Do you still think I deserve it?”

   “I... I don't know.”

 


End file.
